Definitely Different
by LiveLaughLovex
Summary: A macho fireman meets a frustrated detective that may or may not become so much more. An AU take on Erin Lindsay's meeting with Kelly Severide.


**Author's Note:** **This idea wouldn't leave my head. Okay, here are some things you need to know: Erin is twenty-six. She became a cop at twenty-one and made detective at twenty-four. She works in the Gang Unit, which is how she knows Dawson (Gabriela, although it's also how she knows Antonio). And I went completely AU with Chicago Fire, which will hold true even in the multi-chapter; I only stay true to the show for a few things in that.**

 **Disclaimer** **: I don't own Chicago Fire or Chicago PD.**

It was dark, late, and very, very cold as Detective Erin Lindsay made her way towards her apartment in Chicago, Illinois. Her sixteen-year-old foster brother (although she wasn't sure whether or not he was even her foster brother anymore; she was well over the age of majority, and Hank and Camille had stopped being her foster parents- legally- the moment that she turned eighteen) had gotten himself into trouble again, and his mother's sickness had turned his father into a wee bit of a workaholic during the worst moments of helplessness, which seemed to be occurring more and more often those days. Justin was now safely tucked into his bed (by his mother, who was beyond furious at her only son for his behavior), and Erin was officially free to collapse into her own.

But, of course, she shouldn't even have had that thought, because her phone started to ring the very second that she did. She didn't know whether to blame herself or the universe for the bad luck that she was experiencing on that particular night. Then again, she was a cop. Thinking about having time off is kind of like saying "it's a slow day" in a hospital. The world becomes extremely, annoyingly focused on proving you wrong. Apparently, the world had chosen Gabriela Dawson to be its bearer of bad news that day.

Later, Erin would call this divine intervention. At the time, well, there wasn't anything divine about what she called it at the time.

"Hey, Erin," the exhausted voice of Antonio's younger sister greeted her the moment that she answered the phone. "Look, I'm sorry to call you, especially since Antonio told me that your foster brother's been giving you and his parents all kinds of hell late at night, but I have a favor to ask. One of our guys here at 51 got the hell beaten out of him in a bar fight. He wasn't involved, but he blocked a woman from getting knocked out, and apparently some pig wasn't fond of that decision. Anyway, he won't go to the cops because he doesn't want there to be a record of what happened in case this jackass goes after the woman again, but I was wondering if you could run up here, see if there's anything to build a case on."

"Sure, yeah, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Just… don't let him out of your sight, okay? This city has a bad habit of making good people sort of disappear after they have the nerve to defend the defenseless. Believe me, I know." Erin reached for her bag and coat and headed for the door.

It was dark inside of the firehouse when she arrived. Then again, it was nearing midnight, not that any of the firefighters, squad members, and paramedics around her seemed to realize that. Antonio had once said that they worked odd hours; Erin supposed that they had decided to take that assumption to the extreme.

"Detective Lindsay, nice to see you down here. Thank you for coming in," Chief Boden greeted her as he approached her. "Severide's hero complex is good in fires, not so much when he's risking his life to protect someone else."

"Well, the chances are that this woman is perfectly capable of protecting herself. If she's not, the state has measures that she can take to keep this guy from attacking her, so I would recommend that she take them. If I had a name, that is," Erin said, walking towards the break room. She paused when she caught sight of whom she assumed was Severide. "Well, it doesn't look like you didn't feel the need to have anybody protect you," she greeted him, causing him to look at her in confusion. "Detective Erin Lindsay, nice to meet you. I would shake your hand, but it looks like it might be broken, so that wouldn't be the best idea."

"You just have a cop other than your brother on your speed dial?" the lieutenant hissed towards Dawson, but the woman simply shrugged. "You didn't have to come, Detective. I'm perfectly fine taking care of myself."

"Yes, I've heard that line many times before. It's not as convincing coming from a man that has blood dripping from his face as it is from a man that doesn't have blood dripping down his face, just so you know." She smiled slightly. "First of all, don't call me Detective. You can call me Lindsay or Erin, I don't care which, but the formal title has got to go, because the only people that use it are people that either want something from me or have committed an illegal act, so it's kind of soured the impressiveness of the rank for me. Second of all, I know that you got beat to all hell tonight and probably aren't thinking straight, but I am. Women like the one that you defended in that bar are the kind of women that I go to bat for every single day, and I am telling you that filing an official complaint or even an official statement with the Chicago Police Department will help her. Men like the one that Dawson described to me on the phone are not the kind of men that walk away when they don't get what they want, believe me. I've had a bullet put into me by a man that almost perfectly matches the kind of man that decided to throw a few punches at you, and I wished the moment that I went down that I had filed an official report back when he threw me on the ground while I was undercover the first time, but I didn't. And let me tell you something, Lieutenant, bullets hurt even more than bruises."

"You never did say what kind of cop that you were. Hell, you didn't even tell me how long you've been doing this," Kelly informed her, smiling and then wincing as it pulled at the cuts on his face that the blonde woman next to him was working to patch up.

"I save those answers for dates," Erin deadpanned, causing the firefighter to roll his eyes at her. "Fine. I work with Gangs now, which is how I met the other Dawson. To answer your other question, I've been a cop for five years and a detective for just over one."

"Does that make this a date?" the firefighter questioned, arching a brow. Erin shook her head at his antics.

"No, that doesn't make this a date. I don't have dates with bloodied men. It kind of ruins the whole appeal of the date." Erin sighed. "You have a description of this guy?"

"Caucasian, dark hair, dark eyes, drove a black Mustang. I wasn't able to get the partial tags or anything."

"Color, make, and model will do plenty to help narrow it down, especially with a physical description. I'll have some uniforms take it on right now. Let me call in the info to the district."

Kelly smiled at her slightly, causing the paramedic next to him to glare in his direction as she stood to throw away everything she had used to fix his cuts. "Does that mean that I have a chance to talk you into a date after you finish that phone call?"

"Sure, I mean, you deserve a chance, right?" With that, she walked out of the firehouse to place the call, leaving Kelly Severide staring after her with wide eyes and a smile so authentic it nearly caused his lip to split again.

 _Yeah, she's definitely different than most,_ he thought. Then again, maybe different was just what he needed.


End file.
